Diary: camping in Wolverley, Kidderminster

We were recently camping for a few days at Wolverley, just north of Kidderminster (about 20 miles west of Birmingham). The proximate reason was to move our base c. 100 miles north and see some new National Trust sites.

My Honor 10 AI phone in its 'art' mode: our tent

Hanbury Hall NT: an apparently 2D monument

The Queen's Head, Wolverley where we had dinner

We left at eight as the band (above) was setting up. They were scheduled to start at nine. I said to Clare that there are thousands of perfectly competent bands like this up and down the country - even many about our age. The difference between them and the top acts is one of energy and charisma, the sheer animal spirits of Liam-style swagger.

I can think of many less attractive occupations than playing in a gigging pub band. Alas, my guitar skills were always bounded by my clumsiness. Perhaps in another life.

Power starvation

Isle of Wight Music Festival

Ever sat in a tent watching the battery on your phone or tablet die, with no mains power?

Such was my experience in Minehead last weekend. So I bought this:

RAVPower 26800mAh 3-Port 5.5A iSmart Output
Portable Charger Compact Power Bank External Battery Pack

It performed flawlessly, quickly recharging Clare's iPad, my Nexus 6 phone and my Nexus 10 tablet.

It then took around 14 hours overnight to recharge the Power Bank from empty, using the iPad's 5V 2.1A USB mains-charger.

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Tablets charge at 5V 2.1A from a USB mains-charger while for phones it's 5V 1A.

You can charge a tablet from a 1A phone charger - but it takes twice as long; you can charge a phone from a 2.1A tablet charger - the extra current capacity makes no difference and can't be used by the phone - but it's perfectly safe.

My Nexus 6 phone has a 3220 mAh battery, my Nexus 10 tablet has a 9000 mAh battery while Clare's iPad 2 has a 6,944mAh battery.

At 1 amp you would predict that the phone would take just over three hours to charge, the iPad would take seven hours and the tablet 9 hours.

This is why it makes sense, tablet-wise, to invest in a 2.1 amp charger like this, rather than just reusing old phone chargers, so as to halve these times..

AmazonBasics Wall Charger with USB Outlet (2.1 Amp Output)

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Due to various inefficiencies, you should multiply the device charging times above by up to an additional 50% (assuming you were charging from empty - but recall you are advised not to let the charge drop below 30% for long-term battery-health reasons).

Cherbourg to Portsmouth

The disco I mentioned yesterday failed, thankfully, to materialise but in its place I contracted a stomach bug. After way too many visits to the sanitation block this morning, Clare prepared an emergency kit consisting of a plastic bag, wet wipes and a toilet roll. In the event I nursed a dull ache on our trek across Normandy to Cherbourg, and troubled not the pristine fields of France.

I write this on the ferry as we wait to leave the harbour en route for Portsmouth. Feeling better already, buoyed up by copious infusions of iced tea, and reflections of how much Carrefour wine we bought a few hours back.

Yvre l'Eveque, Le Mans

Tomorrow Cherbourg and a ferry ride home. Tonight, camping near Le Mans. No bikers, slimy leathers or gasoline machismo, just another out-of-season half-deserted campsite.

We arrived in sunshine. Tent up, we were cowering inside twenty minutes later as another deluge hit. In fact the much-sprayed canvas is coping well and we remain resolutely dry.

Oh wait! As I write this, someone has started an open-air disco: the tent is throbbing with Europop bass while some forlorn chanteuse .. well, you know.

Gonna be a long, hot night.

Cluny

Oh to be in a tent as the thunderstorms roll by; we are deafened and deluged.

The weird weather seems to have short - circuited The Executioner - no more incandescent cracks, just a mild tingle which leaves the mozzies befuddled.

We did an epic drive today from south of Florence to Cluny along the Mediterranean toll motorway network. A lot of it is tunnels: kilometre length boreholes through the Alps culminating in the 13 km Mont Blanc tunnel, a kind of Freudian birthing experience.

More bad weather is predicted so it'll be a damp night tonight. Tomorrow we move on to a campsite near Le Mans where we hope the amenities are better and dryer.

The picture is from our restaurant this evening at Cluny Abbey. Cluny is a delightful mediaeval French town,  more so when not inundated with hailstones.

The killer at the gates of dawn

Six am this morning and I'm awoken to the crisp crack of mozzies being flashed out of the air. She was on to seven before I got the camera out.

Onwards today to our cottage south of Florence.

So many years of recession here

How many years has Italy been in recession? Since 2008? Walking around Pisa today -  well, it's kind of unmaintained. The paint is peeling, graffiti unfixed and stuff needs repairing. The atmosphere is listless, and not because of the heat.

It is hot though. The picture from our tent below looks like an African safari. The Executioner is doing wonderful service in the tent dispatching mozzies, of which there are more than enough.

A passer-by en route to the toilet block at 2 am might have seen  an actinic flash behind the canvas, accompanied by a sharp crack. Another humming horror taken out as I return to bed.

Pisa

In comparison with memory, Pisa seems curiously down-at-heel and unloved. It's early in the tourist season and the African street-sellers of tourist-tat pursue their trade lethargically, without enthusiasm. Tomorrow we'll see whether the shopping zone is more upmarket.

I am  a magnet for mosquitoes here.

The picture shows our sheep/goat encounter as we entered Italy through a high pass in the Alpes Maritimes.

A tonic for the truckers

Taking a roadside break en route to the Alps. The truck drivers were beeping their horns in appreciation.

Somewhere in Burgundy

Our planned campsite (near Vaizy) was a windswept municipal field - unattended till five said the note on the door.

Half an hour's drive to our alternate and there was absolutely nothing at the GPS coordinates. We never managed to crack the mystery.

We found our current site by serendipity, en route to out third choice. Hotel Camping is owned by a Dutch couple; there is a banner supporting the Holland world cup team; flags fly. We are so deep in la France profonde that there isn't even a phone signal, let alone wifi.

Fresnay-sur-Sarthe

Fresnay-sur-Sarthe, a pretty, tiny town in southern Normandy was dead Sunday night. As we drank in the only open bar in town a solitary boorish Brit in his forties was hectoring a group of French teenagers at an adjacent table. Why he was explaining - in shouty English  -  about butlers eluded us. The  kids responded with embarrassed giggles.

Later, back at the camp, a fellow  camper,  a military search-and-rescue helicopter pilot based out in Iraq, showed us an otter swimming down the river next to our tents. Yes, Fresnay is swarming with Brits.

Camping near Dorchester, Dorset

At last mid-June warm weather. Before our trip to France/Italy we've been rehearsing camping at a site near Moreton, Dorchester. Near Lulworth Cove.

Where we vaguely remember how to put it up.

Clare has a theory: more space without the inner sheet

The coastal path above Lulworth Cove

Thomas Hardy's self-designed house, Max Gate. Clare unimpressed.

This 'skip the inner tent' theory. Jane tells us we'll regret it when it rains; I fear mossies sneaking in under the eaves. We shall see.

Knightshayes Court and Heddon's Mouth

Can't keep us away from another neo-gothic pile, specifically Knightshayes Court near Tiverton with its beautifully manicured and vast woods and gardens. Note the 'woven horse' lurking behind Clare. In the afternoon we drove to the National Trust area of the Heddon Valley with its picturesque - albeit stony - walk to a rocky pebble beach.

A chilly sleeping bag, hard tent-base floor and 200 yard trek to the toilet block persuaded Clare to pack everything up this evening and return home: our mobile home in the Côte d'Azur recently has totally spoilt the girl. (I, however, need little persuasion to fall into line having an inordinate craving for luxury).

Here are the pix.

Knightshayes Court

There were woven deer too

Heddon's Mouth beach

The author fronting the river as it enters the sea

Camping on the river Exe

Our tent is pitched at the far end of a linear campsite,  abutting the river Exe which is about 12 foot wide  here running briskly over a rocky bed. It's making the sound that your WC makes when it won't stop flushing - some people would call that romantic but I'm wondering how well I'll sleep tonight.

These little midges flying around my head. I haven't been bitten (yet) but what do they live on?  What's the ecology? Cooing doves decorate the evening sky .. or pigeons infest the air with their raucous cries: you decide.

We visited Dunster Castle today in the heat and it was a delight,  the gardens populated with colourful, exotic plants. Our meal this evening in the pub local to the campsite was also rewarding - the landlord denied having wifi but seemed unaware I could piggyback on his BT Internet connection via BT FON. Bandwidth again after a day deprived!

Here are some pix. Dunster Castle,  a couple of pictures of us in our tent-home,  after our meal in the local pub. Apologies for such intense parochialism.

Dunster Castle

The old tent - up again

A babbling brook

The pub at Bridgetown

Bracelands campsite; Clearwell Caves; Symonds Yat

As the title hints, Alex, Clare and myself camped over this hot weekend at Bracelands, Forest of Dean. The first picture shows the author doing that 'Zen and the Art of Camping' thing he bluffs about occasionally. The next three were taken in the iron mines at Clearwell - notice Alex's eyes in the dark, suggestions on a postcard please. Sunday afternoon we went to Symond's Yat Rock, just around the corner - there's a pleasant view down to the river Wye.